


I'm not like him

by korik



Series: Speak Without Words [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Study, Dialogue, Drabble, How Do I Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4332924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korik/pseuds/korik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In my headcanon, my Inquisitor's half-brother, though she officially has had to cut off ties with the Trevelyan family since joining the Ostwick Circle so many years ago, has joined up with the Inquisition to give reports and encourage connections where the Trevelyan name is brought up despite this.<br/>Aka Eaizlen Trevelyan is the fifth Advisor of the Inquisition, and he falls for Dorian Pavus. Takes place rather far into the game, and after Dorian's personal quest.<br/>There's something strange about the senior Pavus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm not like him

He looks like the floor is collapsing beneath him, fingers reflexively curling, joints bending - the recovery is smooth, bits and pieces bouncing back to form a wall, but his eyes and laugh are like sheer, frozen glass. "You can't be serious, Trevelyan."

"Maybe I am wrong," he agrees, trying to avoid cornering the other man in his refuge, "but we both have seen desperate men - you may be more alike than you think."

It seems to much for Dorian to bear, sharp features contorting, leather clattering with its silver decorations nigh blinding. "You are wrong." You have to be wrong. "My father would never step so out of line - never - " the rise of his voice falls flat, teeth bared.

"Parents do...strange things for their children, and sometimes build the fortress too close, too - " he gestures helplessly, unable to bear that his f-friend's lip trembles.

"How - why?" The Mage seems to ask the air of the tower, stone tossing the sharpest edges of his voice back at him. "It's too ironic, too good, the perfect excuse to justify what he's done - "

"He loves you, truth or not," Eaizlen murmurs, "you said before it was better than you hoped for, not what you had expected but - "

The laugh startles the advisor.

"You're a strange creature, an optimist, a bit like your sister, and yet... Why, why would you tell me to think about this? Like the old bastard was even close to pretending humanity?" He wants to cling, hang his head and rave but he always has it tucked together, snagging the stitching of his inner self closed, terrified.

The taller, darker skinned man with his pointed tattoos, straight laced coats and practical wear meaning to be seen and not heard gazes at Dorian with a pinch to his brow. "Because you deserve peace." Not because I love you, not because I want you, but because you are so much more than even you give yourself credit for.

The Mage looks away. "There you go again."

A confused sound.

"I need...time, Eaizlen. These books won't fix themselves."

Ah. Taking the hint, the other bows lightly, and turns to go. "I'll be here, or down the hall should you want me."

The air hangs too heavy, and the pariah finds he cannot speak.


End file.
